In Memoria
by AlteaAuroraRia
Summary: In Loving Memory Of... "It changed, but he was too blind to see." Elincia, queen of Crimea, grows bitter and cold, driving everyone away. Everyone, that is, except him, for he still remembers how she once was everyone's angel. -Warnings inside-


_**AN: Hi there! New FF (like finally. LOL.) for the competition over at deviantart! Link: Fire-Emblem-Club . deviant art journal / Competition-Time-319878110 (remove the spaces)**_

_**Theme: "Loyalty"**_

_**I'm not sure I really caught loyalty here, but it seems... okay I guess. Geoffrey and Elincia's relationship is not meant to be one-sided love, but more of loyalty to her as both childhood friends and sovereign-subject. **_

_**Elincia is really OoC here, but I made it like that, because in the game: she didn't lose anyone besides her father, she wasn't in love with Ike, and she seemed so much like an angel when every other ruler seemed to ignore her that I figured she had to somehow let go of that character... **_

_**Warnings: OoC (especially Elincia, read abv. AN), AU if everyone survives in FE10, **__**bloodshed, insanity, death**_

_**Featured pairings: onesided!Ikelincia, onlythereifyousquint!onesided!Geoffrincia**_

* * *

Geoffrey Delbray still remembered.

He remembered the time when they were still children, all three of them, living in the outskirts of Crimea in the villa, surrounded by breathtaking forest. Barely anyone had known of the villa's existence; not for his own safety, no, neither for his sister Lucia's, but for _her_. All for her, hidden in the shadows to lead a secluded but protected life.

He remembered the way her evergreen hair brightened in the sun, radiant, and how they darkened softly in the shade, ethereal. Her light-brown eyes were never dull, always glinting with mischief, promise and childish innocence. Her shy character and eagerness to help, be it himself or his sister or just the stray animal that crossed paths, despite how everyone protested that a princess should never have to bend down and help.

He still remembered.

The first time he had to leave her alone in the villa and attend to the duties of knighthood in the Royal Knights under her uncle's command. The next time he had returned and met her, no longer a young girl but a young woman without childish innocence, himself a young man. The last time he had left her in the villa; the very next day, Daein had invaded.

He still remembered.

He remembered finally finding her, with the band of mercenaries she had somehow convinced to join her cause to claim her throne. She was more subdued, knowing her father and uncle had both passed on, but the quiet inner strength he had always seen in her was still there; her confidence shown as she commanded her army in battle; her intellect as she commanded her strategists in the tent. Finally as the Mad King's War ended, as she managed to claim her birthright, he felt pride swell in his chest; she would make a good queen in the peace to come.

If only that were true.

Crimea rebelled against the queen that brought them peace. He never understood how she had managed not to break down just at the news; somehow she remained strong, wanting to avoid bloodshed and once again bring peace.

He still remembered how she had defended the castle valiantly waiting for his arrival. How everything had nearly been for naught as she was forced to watch the near death of her dear friend, his own sister. Lucia had survived only because that same band of mercenaries had returned; he still remembered how grateful she had been to the blue-haired male as she grasped his sister's hand.

However, from then on, he had seen something different in her hazel eyes.

The second war continued on. He remembered how she had stood between the armies of the Begnion Senate and Laguz Alliance and begged them to stop, weaponless and vulnerable. How they had not listened to her, how he had been forced to rescue her from the field of death. She had said naught a word to the Empress and either of the Laguz kings, but he knew that she was stricken at how both sides just disregarded her, a queen in her own right.

That something in her eyes changed again, but he was too blind to see.

The climax of the second war nearly broke her. The uncle she had just gotten back had relapsed in the first battle in the tower, and that split second had caused him his life. She caught his falling body, and her last memory of him was the power-crazed eyes of Bertram as he fell dead. He made sure to stand close to her throughout the battle, but she barely attacked, just healing at the end with glazed hazel eyes that saw somewhere he could not.

If that was not enough, the goddesses saw fit to take away her dearest friend. In midst of protecting her, Lucia had been struck with Ashera's harshest blow. The blue-haired swordswoman had fallen backwards into her, knocking the both of them off the edge. He had only just managed to save her; he remembered her heart-wrenching scream as they watched her dearest friend, his sister, plummet to the bottom of the tower. The only comfort was that Ashera's blow had already killed Lucia; when it ended, the white-clad woman's mangled body was too much for her to bear.

He still remembered how she had not cried, but watched with vacant eyes as Lucia's body was brought away for burial.

The blue-haired male, the leader of the mercenary pack, dealt the final blow. He knew, all of them knew, that she was in love with the mercenary, from the first war itself. However, the duties of a sovereign had to be trained from young, and Ike could not bear to be king. Writing a last letter to her, he had left the continent and has not been seen or heard of since. He remembered how she had clutched the letter, crumpled it and threw it to a corner of her room in a rage, only to smooth it out once again and re-read the letter both he and she knew by heart.

He would always secretly blame the blue-haired mercenary for killing her.

She became detached from everyone. She still dealt with country affairs and attended events, but everyone noted how she did not speak much, how she would never smile. Her heart became as cold as ice, her eyes as frosty as iced caramel.

Her pain brought anger, and when Crimea, this time in fear for her harsh punishments, rebelled against her, she had the leaders quartered then beheaded, heads on display for everyone to see so that no one ever challenged her again.

The benevolent queen was no more, and the country trembled in fear of her.

One by one, her once-beloved subjects left her. One by one, she was left alone to rule. One by one, she once again led a secluded life.

Only he remained. Only he, ever by her side since childhood, could stand to be next to her as she ordered yet another execution. Everyone began to shun him; no one ever spoke to him, yet he never minded. Anything, he would think as he watched yet another loosed-lipped advisor walk up to the block, quaking in fear, anything for his queen.

She had been adamant to leave the Laguz Alliance. He had told her not to, for the proud and volatile Laguz kings would not be pleased, and may even launch an attack. This one advice cost him his arm, but she had relented anyway.

Anything for the queen.

As she grew colder, he chilled with her. But even as he did, she froze faster, for she had let go of the past, no holds barred. Geoffrey still remembered; still remembered the past, the wars, and most of all, the old Elincia Ridell Crimea, _his_ Elincia, who everyone wanted back.

He was sure that even if he ran for her, he would lose her in the blizzard.

But that did not stop him from trying.


End file.
